Hunter's Moon
by RoseGlass
Summary: How much pressure can one person take before they shatter? Dick is about to find out when a teenage girl comes to be part of the Wayne family after her mother's brutal death. She has a mysterious past and a penchant for disobeying any and all rules set before her. Helena Kyle makes it a game to see how far she can push before this new family leaves, just like everyone else


**Hunter's Moon**

Written by RoseGlass and beta-d by her dear friends that were kind enough to rip apart everything she cared about in her writing then help make it better. So thank you my personal peanut gallery.

Young Justice (TV series-verse)/ Batman: Under the Red Hood/ Birds of Prey (tv-series) xover and maybe a reference from the Dark Knight trilogy.

Disclaimer: I do not own Batman…I wish I did, but I would probably not be here if I was that lucky…who am I kidding! Of course I would be here! I love you guys! Especially the ones that actually take a sec to read this crap I spew at the top of each chapter! I also do not own Young Justice in any form except for a comic book! Or have any rights to Batman movies, storylines, universes or paraphernalia, or Birds of Prey- a seriously awesome TV show if you haven't seen it- go watch it now! This is where I'm getting ideas for the metahumans!

**Chapter One: Nine Lives Over**

**0o0o0o0o0o0o0oo0o0o**

Helena Kyle didn't want to feel like this anymore.

Feel like the world was coming apart at the seams, like her head was going to explode and her universe shatter with the barest touch.

Like she was stuck while the rest of the world moved on- lived on, she couldn't move past this. So filled up with all these awful, horrible emotions that left nothing but a burning darkness oozing its way through her veins like a poison.

She didn't want to hurt or be angry or scared. She just wanted all of the feeling to go away.

She tried drugs, tried her mom's liquor- but that just made it all come back worse when she realized how much her mother would hate what she was doing to herself.

It also made her feel sicker than she had ever felt before; inside and out.

Helena had forgotten what it was like to sleep and not dream.

To have sweet dreams that flowed like cream over the darkest parts of her mind and washed all the bad away. Coating the shadows in cotton candy, making her forget how underneath the sugary goodness was an oozing oily substance. The places inside her filled with disappointment, death, hate and fear.

The deep purple under her eyes was a testimony to every living nightmare she had had in the last couple weeks, living by herself. Dreams of blood (so much blood) and screams that chill the spine; of blank stares and false sympathy; of that monster reaching out and digging his knife into-

_Enough!_ Helena yelled at herself, imagining the eraser in her mind that would wipe the memories away…for a little while. Continuing like this was going to kill her, or drive her insane, neither of which really sounded bad at the moment.

She leapt down from the rafters of the loft, to the hardwood flooring below. Always landing on her feet, just like mom. Well…almost always.

Glancing out the wide bullet-proof glass windows she saw dawn was approaching, even a city brimming with sin and sooty darkness as Gotham had some light. It was strange how nearly like comfort that was. And the world continued on, like tragedy didn't happen, and people didn't die…Helena often wondered if anyone would even care if something happened to her now that her mom was gone.

She stretched her arms high into the air above her head, curling backwards until she was in a handstand and then slowly back down with her feet. Gymnastics was good to a girl with a flexible spine. She still ached in places from bruises gained in street-fights during the week. It was a good way to relieve stress; to get lost in the moment and just forget.

Time to get ready for a day of strangers, unwanted hugs, and _I'm so sorry for your loss_.

**0o0o0o0o0o0oo**

Richard John Grayson had not felt this alone in years.

Sitting in Bruce's chair, at the huge antique mahogany desk in the study, Dick was looking over papers he needed to deal with. Though they were really just something to get his mind off of how his superhero …?

He could deal with being man of the house for a while, with taking care of his new little brother, the Manor, Wayne Enterprises, Gotham and Bludhaven, making sure Alfred took care of himself, dealing out missions to Young Justice, handling an alien invasion, lying to everyone he cares about and the rest of the world. But this is so much bigger.

He could even handle one of his best friends potentially being a triple agent working against him while said friends mind had gone through something like a cheese-grater.

Why couldn't Bruce be here when he needed to be? Why did he have to leave them alone while dealing with a crisis off-planet? He was the goddamn Batman! He was supposed to be the hero that saw to Earth and its people before all else.

Even a phone call would be appreciated just to hear his foster-father's voice, his logical advice, his suicidal need to bring justice to those who have wronged innocents. He couldn't even call his best friend in the world because Wally still hated him for putting Artemis' life in danger—again.

Not even—not even Jason's _death_ was this shocking.

He was so in over his head with this one. Dick turned over the paper in his hands

-_Helena Juliet Kerensa Wayne-_

Bruce, what have you got me into this time…

**0o0o0o0o0o0o0oo**

"_Careful!" _a voiced hissed out, "_If you damage the specimen it will be _our_ heads taken to the High Council."_

"Alright, alright- jeez!" another huffed.

"Why's this kid so important anyway, he doesn't look like anybody special?"

"_Well that's why I'm in charge isn't it. That child is going to lead our forces against those that would fight the natural order—he will bring the Light to the world, but first…"_

The first one pauses to adjust the straps holding the teenage boy down to the cold stainless steel pod. Then places syringe- needles in his arms and electrodes on his temples and chest; the first to inject him with something, and the second to monitor brain and heart activity.

"_First he must be unmade, then The Light will make him new and he will be invincible."_

The two men step back, pressing a button that causes a thick glass cover to slide over the top of the pod. The room's single light shines down on the pod, revealing a handsome face framed by near-black hair- a slight scar near his left temple the only noticeable mar. A boy of about 16 or 17 in a black, skintight jumpsuit, and a label…

_J. Todd: Project Leviathan; Sub-Project Resurrection_

They turn to leave the room, with every step activating the motion sensor lights; illuminating the hundreds of similar pods with hundreds of similar children inside. With fading steps the lights shut themselves off, casting the sleeping faces in darkness once more.

**O0o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

Arsenal slipped on his red domino mask as he left the Hall of Justice where they finally did it. With the support of Dinah, Ollie's through sheer persistence and _Roy_, Roy Harper- the original, changed his name. It was an offhand remark of Beastboy's that originally had him thinking about it. He'd noticed it was becoming problematic, especially for those superheroes that were more familiar with his clone as Roy Harper. It was difficult being two people, knowing they were different people. They might share memories of the same childhood, but they created new memories and chose different routes as superheroes.

Arsenal, Roy Harper, was now Robert Roy Harper-Queen, the adopted son of Oliver Queen and Dinah Lance, little brother of Roy Harper. Dinah suggested the name and well…none of the Arrow family could really say no to her.

He was a new man, he'd spent the last couple months catching up on the current events he missed out on from bad pop music to political events, and then _Rob _joined Young Justice for a trial run getting some flak from those that knew the previous Arrow on the team that recently died, Artemis. He was getting to know the ghost that should have been his rival and sister, and he missed meeting her by days.

Deaths and betrayal aside, Rob was finally making friends with the other sidekicks, despite his admittedly nasty attitude and general disrespect for authoritative figures. He was getting along pretty well with the new Robin, and Impulse who couldn't keep his trap shut and was bound to force you into friendship with him, he was pretty close with Jaime and Conner too. He just couldn't seem to make friends with any of the girls, that would have been his age or younger if he hadn't been placed on ice for 8 years. He did think Cassie was hot, a little ditzy and too damn cheerful, but hot none-the-less.

In a dark alley Rob pulled off the rest of his civilian clothes and removed the camouflage setting on his Luthor provided robotic arm. A black Kevlar body suit covered him from neck to toe, with no sleeves to impede his arm movements. The bright red arrow symbol on his chest and sharp lines running down his legs and decorating his chest, stood out amidst the darkness of his suit. He checked his quiver for the dozenth time, and all of his secret compartments in the suit with his little hidden gadgets, then buckled his utility belt in place. He was joining Red Arrow, _his brother,_ on patrol for the next couple hours to get him used to the routine he would begin when school started in September.

He was going to be a sophomore, he would soon be able to test for a driver's license, he had friends that knew his secret identity and he didn't have to hide anything from them. He was moving on.

He was Robert Queen now, he had too.

**00o0o00o0o0oo0**

"Dad!" a thin, blonde girl with cinnamon brown eyes stalked through her father's cheap apartment.

"Dad!"

She was pissed. She knew her father had gone out and done something stupid, getting himself back on the radar of Gotham's most dangerous mobsters. Batman and co. or not, Gotham City was still not the safest city in the world. It had a lot of bad things seeped into its very core. If her idiotic father kept on letting himself get dragged down by the scum of the city, he was never going to be able to keep both feet out of prison long enough to do anything good for himself or for her.

This time he went too far.

The scowl seemed it would permanently etch itself into her face. He not only put the suit on _again_, breaking his promise to his own kid, he spent their rent money for the month gambling with high-rollers in another underground game, and wasted the money for groceries this week setting up another scheme to take down the Bat and his gang of misfits that always played two steps ahead.

No more. She was not cleaning up his mess anymore. She looked around the flat in disgust- literally. She was done washing his clothes and dirty dishes, doing all the house-hold chores, trying to make sure the bills got paid and they had enough food to eat. She was done being the adult while he went around in spandex-suits acting like a toddler with a temper tantrum. She was done.

The brown eyed 14 year old headed back down the hall to her closet-of-a-bedroom, barely big enough for the cot and dresser. She pulled her duffel bag out from under the cot and started packing: a few changes of clothes, what little jewelry she had, her favorite two books, toiletries, and under the loose floorboard, the emergency cash and legal documents. She left her door open as she left, walking past peeling wallpaper that was a definite nod to the 80s and the mold growing in the corners. She headed to her dad's room and proceeded to take what she could carry of her long dead mother's things, including probably the most expensive thing in the apartment, a 5 karat diamond wedding ring. She left that room too and grabbing a warm jacket and blanket out of the hall closet went back to her open door, locking it behind her. She opened the window to the fire-escape on the far side of the room, that always stuck just a little up or down.

She had roughly $600 and enough non-perishable food from the pantry to last her a couple weeks.

She left without a glance back. She never wanted that life and would do everything possible to get away from it. She, Stephanie Brown, was done being known as Cluemaster's goody-two-shoes kid. She was walking away from everything she knew, everything she hated, from the little family she still had, into the world unknown. She would do whatever she wanted now; leave Gotham even.

Staring up at the cast-over dawn from the rooftop three buildings over from her dad's apartment, Stephanie knew something very important. She had no regrets, and she never would.

**0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

A.N. (Author's Note)

Just wanted to say thanks to everyone that has now just finished this first chapter! I also wanted to just put it out there that I am not at all familiar with how Stephanie Brown/ Spoiler ended up separated from her dad, but I do know that she was often pissed at him for being a shitty father and eventually became Spoiler in order to Spoil his supposedly dastardly evil plots. Not sure why besides being a not very awesome criminal, but what I put made sense to me and I got all kinds of lovely ideas about the next couple chapters. Things will probably be a little choppy for a while- this is how I feel sometimes about the actual series, it shows bits and pieces of different things and those little bits that you don't really pay any attention to are often the most important details.

FYI: I decided to rename Arsenal because I cannot have both Roy's in my head, with them looking and talking almost exactly the same without going a little insane. His name Robert Roy, comes from the name of a famous Scottish outlaw- that from what I read was something like Robin Hood (I also wanted to name him Robert after Robin Hood i.e. Robert of Locksley)- he was called Rob Roy by the English and something to do with his red hair by the Scots. Made perfect sense to me. And even though it's been a few months since he woke up in the hospital and took the name Arsenal, I think he will still be holding a grudge against Ollie for giving up on him. But with Black Canary's help, Ollie and Roy will push Arsenal into accepting Ollie and forgiving him. Becoming Robert Roy Harper Queen, younger brother of Roy Harper, adopted son of Oliver Queen and Dinah Laurel Lance.


End file.
